Atlas noticed Glory saying his name. He was reluctant to walk over, but saw her put away her crucifix. He put down his occult book. It looked brand new, yet emitted an aura of age. On the navy blue cover, in silver letters, read [i]Per Aspera Ad Astra, Per Aspera Ad Inferi[/i]. Under the title, there was a small logo showing stylized wind and flames in a circle.  Glory Grey was Atlas’ second biggest threat from within the building. Her crucifix was deadly to him and his kind. She was a quiet person, and Atlas could respect that. Time to attempt to make “friends”.

	“Hello there, Glory”, Atlas managed. She was possibly the coworker he didn’t hate the most, if only because she didn’t talk that much. “What did you need?”, he asked, trying to be polite but failing miserably. He had begun to sit down when he stiffened. Someone he knew had walked into the building.

	“What? What is he doing here? I haven’t seen him since..when was it? Before the turn of the century, at least.”, he realized he was thinking out loud, and laughed at himself. “Sorry about that, Glory, So, you were saying?”, he said. Should he walk into the room, he would address him. He kept his distance from Glory as he sat down. For all he knew, she could whip out her Bible and burn his face off. She was from the bayou, right? He held a fear of the bayou, ever since...wait. Why did he have a fear? He had never visited the bayou. Shrugging it off, he waited for a response, and for the old Count to walk upstairs.